


Sentiment Given, Sentiment Lost

by BiP



Category: The Fionavar Tapestry - Guy Gavriel Kay
Genre: Brotherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiP/pseuds/BiP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments in the brotherhood of Aileron and Diarmiud dan Aillell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sentiment Given, Sentiment Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyoraShadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyoraShadow/gifts).



The two sons of Aillell dan Art were fighting.

 

Again.

 

Sighing, Loren Silvercloak swung his horse around to them, his face a thundercloud. It hadn't stopped them before, but he had to keep trying. Killing them, was, after all, out of the question, although Matt had suggested it at least twice a day since they had left the palace. Loren was sure he was joking. Mostly.

 

“Young princes, what appears to be the trouble this time?” Loren asked, gravely. “Snow will be flying and spring come again before we make it to the plains at this pace.”

 

Dark, quiet, and serious at fifteen, Aileron dan Aillell spoke half a second before his brother. “Nothing, Loren. Diarmuid is-”

 

“I am not!” Diarmuid dan Aillell interrupted. At twelve, he was the opposite of Aileron in every way – fair, mercurial, quick to rise to any bait and quicker still to fight a perceived injustice, against himself or anyone else. “I was only-”

 

“ENOUGH!” Both boys stopped mid-syllable, shocked into silence. Even Loren was startled, and looked past them to Matt Soren, taking point behind them. “I have had enough. You bicker like old women, and we could have passed half a hundred enemies who would have known where we were just by following the sound of your incessant prattle. Are you princes? Are you fighters? Or are you children? Pah,” Matt spit. “We should return you to the palace right now. Perhaps wait a year. Maybe you are not ready to learn all the Dalrei can teach.”

 

That threat produced the desired effect, immediately.

 

“Loren Silvercloak, Matt Soren, I am deeply sorry,” Aileron began. “You are right, of course. I know bett-”

 

Diarmuid interrupted again. “I am sorry as well. I'll keep my mouth shut from here out, promise!” and he spurred his horse forward, passing Loren and forcing them all to follow. He kept his word, though, and no further interventions were necessary, even as they made camp and broke it again.

 

Celidon rose slowly from the plain the next morning; the standing Stones appearing first, then the scattered camps around them, and finally the House inside the Stones, where generation upon generation of the Dalrei had met and given council to the kings of Brennan, and future kings. They were met by a contingent of riders half a league out.

 

“Welcome, princes, to the plains of the Dalrei,” the leader of the first tribe greeted them formally. “We will teach you all you can learn of the history of Revor and our people, so that you may lead us against the Darkness should need arise.”

 

Aileron spoke for both of them with the words Loren had taught him, never hesitating. “We thank you, and pray that need never comes. We give ourselves to your teaching.” The first nodded. “Here, then, comes your teacher and father for this time.”

 

A man a little younger than their father the king approached them, a boy approximately Diarmuid's age with him. “Loren Silvercloak, it is good to see you and Matt again. Is this our young pupil?”

 

“It is. Ivor dan Banor, this is Aileron and Diarmuid dan Aillel. They will be as your sons for the next month, and learn all you can teach them.”

 

“If you can pound anything into their thick heads,” Matt muttered, and Ivor laughed.

 

“I am sure that they will do their best, and it will do Levon good to learn of the history of our people as well.”

 

“Then I leave him to you and Leith, and thank you for your hospitality.”

 

The brothers had been politely quiet during the exchange, they and Levon sizing each other up. As the formal introductions were done, and the adults moved together towards the tent of the third tribe, the boys moved their horses nearer each other and began their own introductions.

 

Diarmuid took to riding like he was born to the plain, and was soon outriding Aileron; only Levon could best him and they were fiercely competitive with one another. Diarmuid was delighted; Aileron had quit playing taibl with him when he started winning, but he couldn't quit riding! For his part, Aileron loved the riding but spent more time with the shaman of the first tribe, learning all the history of the plains and of the leadership provided by Revor.

 

It was a summer of firsts for them both - including their first hangovers, sachen being a wicked drink. Loren was especially thrilled with that one, given Diarmuid's age, but he and Levon had snuck it from the table during a celebration dance and, as Matt said, perhaps it would convince the young prince to refrain from indulging in the future.

 

They would meet again, years hence, with darkness come again, and Aileron as the High King; Diarmuid would remind Levon of the law of the Dalrei and the swift justice required of war. But for now, the were only boys on the plain.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the Indigo Girls song "Joking"
> 
> Yuletide 2013, for the prompt: *I really love Aileron and Diarmuid separately and together, and would love to see more about their relationship. Scenes from their childhood, with both of them being incredibly precocious in entirely different ways would be especially awesome, but I’m also curious what happened as they got older and their relationship started to fray. Or elaborate on their relationship during the events of the trilogy. I don’t like incredibly sad stories, so please don’t make it all about Diarmuid’s death, if you can possibly avoid it!*


End file.
